Pas de Deux
by songbird64
Summary: Based on Disney's Sleeping Beauty. Aurora and Maleficent have a friendly little chat.


Disclaimer: They all belong to Disney. As does my soul.  


Pas de Deux

They never ask her if she had dreamt while she slept. She could tell Merryweather wanted to ask sometimes, but Flora always stopped her. Aurora is not sure what the answer would be, anyway.

She remembers hearing Maleficent's boastful cry—

_You thought you could defeat me! Me! The mistress of all evil!_

—but she suspects that was only because Maleficent wanted her to hear.

She tries to hide it, but she has something of a grudge against Merryweather now. There are times when Aurora wonders if death would have been better than that strange slumber, but then she realizes she is being ungrateful. _Merryweather meant well_. _She couldn't have known…_ But still, sometimes, she has strange thoughts that frighten her. Violent images flash through her mind. She had never had thoughts like those before. She suspects they are not her own, and she thinks she knows whose they might be.

She had dreamt of her once, as a child. Her first nightmare. She had been five, maybe six, and in her dream was a tall woman with pale green skin. The woman had come towards her bed. She cupped Aurora's chin with her long fingers, and Aurora could feel the points of her sharp nails. Aurora, strangely enough, was not scared. She felt as though she should be scared, but she was not quite sure why. The woman leaned down, and Aurora could see that she was smiling. "Those fools," the woman said softly. "Those simpleminded idiots. They think you'll be safe, tucked away in your dreams, but they forgot something, didn't they? Yes, my dear, they forgot nightmares. Your fear will feed me. And there's nothing quite as scary as a bad dream, now is there?"

During her speech, Aurora could feel the woman's fingernails becoming sharper. But the sharpness was not only on her chin. She could feel the sharp pricks of nails all along her body, and when she looked down at herself, she could see thorns breaking out of her, piercing through her skin. As she screamed in terror, the woman threw back her head and laughed.

Aurora (or rather, Briar Rose) hadn't told her three fairy guardians about the dream. They were already overprotective enough, and besides, she told herself, dreams can't really hurt you. As the years passed, Aurora forgot about the dream, though she did tend to avoid sharp objects.

Compared to thorns ripping through your body, a simple spindle on a spinning wheel seemed harmless. She wonders now if she should have just run off with Phillip in the woods that one day. But she suspects it would not have mattered. Maleficent would have found her in the end, maybe not in the flesh, but always in her dreams.

After touching the spindle, Aurora had indeed fallen asleep. She didn't know how long, but for a brief and glorious time, she was peacefully asleep.

But then Maleficent found her

"Wake up, princess."

It was as if she had been in a darkened room that suddenly was full of light. One moment there was nothing, and the next, she found herself in a small, round chamber, lying down on a bed, with the woman of her nightmares standing over her.

Aurora tried to sit up, but she couldn't move.

"I remember you," was all she could think to say.

"That's right, isn't it? I paid you a visit when you were young, when they thought they could hide you from me. But we have never formally met," the woman said.

"You…you're Maleficent. I heard them—Flora and Fauna and Merryweather—I heard them talk about you when they thought I wasn't listening. You made me touch the spindle." Aurora paused. "But I don't understand why. Why do you want me to sleep?"

An angry fire flashed in Maleficent's eyes.

"I didn't want you to sleep, I wanted you to _die_! I cursed you in your cradle, but Merryweather altered my curse to make you sleep."

"But I still don't understand. Why did you want to kill me? I—I never even knew you."

"It's simple enough," Maleficent said. "They all love you. You make them happy. If you die, they become unhappy. That makes _me_ happy. That's the way evil works."

"Please," Aurora said. "Please let me go. I won't bother you."

Maleficent let out a cruel laugh. "You fool. I have no control over you now. This is not just my spell. You will wake with true love's kiss. And I assure you I will not let that happen. No one defeats Maleficent."

"My true love?" Aurora thought of the stranger in the forest who danced with her…was it yesterday? How long had she been asleep?

"Yes. Your precious prince. He's in my dungeon now."

"Prince? You mean my betrothed? He's not my true love. You can let him go."

Maleficent was silent for a moment and then burst into laughter.

"Oh, this just makes it even better. Here you are, wallowing in despair for your lost love, and he turns out to be the same man you are meant to marry. I do so enjoy irony."

Aurora could not respond. Prince Phillip was the stranger? The man she had fallen in love with was the man she was to marry? It would have been perfect, except that he was imprisoned and she was cursed. A perfect fairy tale gone terribly wrong. Aurora started to cry. This just made Maleficent laugh harder.

"Oh, come now, princess. Do you really think the two of you would be happy? You've been raised as a humble peasant girl. Being a princess is hard work. If you ask me, you're better off where you are now. The beauty of being evil is that you follow only your own rules. Didn't you tire of those three meddling old fairies?"

"I loved them," Aurora managed between sobs. "They took care of me."

"And yet they neglected to mention your true heritage, kept you isolated from the rest of humanity, and never warned you of the curse hanging over you since you were a baby. They left you defenseless against me. I should thank them some day."

Aurora fell silent. She did wish her guardians had given her some kind of warning, some defense against this evil witch who mocked her pain. And then there was Phillip. They hadn't even tried to help her be with her true love. Aurora closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about any of it right now.

"Yes, princess. Sleep. That's all any of them trust you to do."

She did sleep. And she dreamt. She was with _him_, Phillip, the stranger. They were dancing again in the woods, as they had once upon a dream. But then Aurora started to feel a pricking at her ankles. She looked down and saw they were dancing in a patch of thorns. Barefooted, she was leaving bloody footprints. She tried to tell Phillip, tried to explain that it was hurting, but he just told her to go back to sleep. And now he was no longer Phillip, but her father, the father she had just met, telling her that a good princess always dances among thorns, and that she must leave behind her simple country ways. _Just go back to sleep,_ he said. He was her father, he was Phillip, he was the nameless, faceless prince she thought she had to marry. And Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather all flew around her, looking at her sadly, but nodding in agreement with her father. Aurora tripped and fell, landing in the thorns. _Sleep_, they all said. _Go to sleep_. But she couldn't! The thorns were piercing her all over and she kept hearing that mocking laughter—

The laughter wasn't part of the dream.

She woke with a start, still feeling phantom thorns all over her body. Maleficent was laughing over her.

And then she disappeared. And Aurora was alone.

"Hello?" she called. "M-Maleficent?"

But there was no answer. Aurora lay there, immobile and powerless. She could only hope that Phillip would come find her, but even that thought wasn't very comforting anymore.

Aurora had no concept of how much time passed, but it felt like hours, like days, that she rested there, alone, too scared to close her eyes again. For the first few hours (if it really were that long) she did nothing. But soon she could no longer handle the silence.

"I don't know what to do," she said to the walls, to anyone who might be listening. "I don't want to sleep. I'm scared. Please help me." But of course there was no response.

"Flora? Fauna? Merryweather? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you warn me? I don't know how to be a princess. I don't know _how_ and no one ever told me. I just want to go back home. This place is cold. There are drafts and it's so easy to get lost. Please, let's go home."

There was silence.

"I don't really like pink or blue, actually."

She kept talking, trying to fill the silence with something, anything but the sound of her sobbing echoing against the cold stone walls.

After a while, she started to talk to the stones on the walls. They thought it was awful that she had to be taken from her home to be a princess. They understood, even if no one else did.

"Did you miss me?"

She thought the voice came from the stones at first, but then she saw the tall, horned figure standing beside her.

"Maleficent! Where did you go? Why did you leave? Say you won't leave again," she cried.

"Stop babbling," Maleficent responded. "What's the matter with you?"

"They wouldn't listen to me, none of them. But the stones, they understood. They talked to me, but everyone else just stayed silent."

"Have you gone mad?" Maleficent snapped. She looked at Aurora's questioning expression. "You _have_ gone mad. Why, that's delightful. Certainly more than I had hoped for."

"No, no, you don't understand. I'm not mad, the stones! They're so kind. They remind me of my friends at home."

"You mean the fairies?"

"No, when they were busy, I would go into the woods with my friends. The owl, the rabbits, you know the animals in the forest. I could talk to them."

"Shut up, child. Maybe you've always been mad. Maybe I should leave you to your stones."

"No! Please! Stay."

Aurora tried to reach a hand to Maleficent.

"Don't leave me again."

There was silence as Maleficent stared at Aurora's outstretched hand suspiciously, as if this were some kind of trick. Then Maleficent saw the earnestness in Aurora's expression and anger rose within her.

"You sicken me," Maleficent spat. "You're so dependent on everyone around you. It's no wonder Flora didn't tell you about me. It probably wouldn't have helped. I probably didn't even need to hypnotize you to make you touch that spindle. You're so disgustingly complaisant."

Maleficent grasped Aurora's hand and pierced the milky skin with her fingernails. Aurora gasped in pain, her gaze questioning.

"This is what happens when you need someone to hold your hand, _princess_," Maleficent said, tightening her grasp until drops of blood appeared on their joined hands. "You put yourself at someone else's mercy, you feed them your blood." She let go suddenly, and Aurora retrieved her hand quickly, holding it to her breast. "You're barely worth the effort. You're too easy."

"Just let me sleep in peace. Please," Aurora whispered.

"You _are_ asleep. If your prince were to walk in here right now, he'd see you, a vision of beauty, peacefully asleep. Maybe he won't bother to wake you up at all. Maybe he'd prefer you asleep. I suppose it won't make much difference."

"But—the dream?"

"The dream was your own, without my interference. That's the best part, actually. It's like you're doing my job for me."

"What's _wrong_ with you?" Aurora cried. "Why are you doing this to me, to everyone? Why are you like this?

"Why am I evil, you mean?"

"Yes! What made you like this?"

"Nothing made me like this! I _am_ like this! Don't you understand, you silly fool? I am my own master! Nothing controls me. I control those who are too weak to control themselves. Like you."

"I am not weak. I hate you."

Maleficent laughed. "You were begging for my companionship just a moment ago. It was touching, really. It would have melted my heart if I had one."

"How much longer? How much longer do I have to stay here?"

"You don't understand the curse, do you? If it had been my way, you would be dead right now. But this…this is infinitely better. I must thank Merryweather for her ingenuity. Eternal sleep. A euphemism for death instead of the real thing. Your beloved fairy godmother has trapped you here until your prince comes to save you. And, I repeat, that will not happ—."

In that moment Maleficent froze, a troubled look on her face.

"What—what is it?" Aurora asked.

"No. No, it can't be!" Maleficent cried. In a flash of green light, she was gone.

Aurora almost cried out, but stopped. She hated herself for wanting Maleficent back, hated herself for being too scared to sleep. She remained there in silence, refusing to talk to herself, to the stones, to anyone.

And then it was over. Aurora opened her eyes and saw her prince. It was all over.

But of course, it wasn't, really.

Aurora became a princess, but she didn't much like it. She wore the pink (sometimes blue) dress that was made for her, but she still wished it were a different color. She loved Phillip, but she wondered if she would still be married to him if he hadn't happened to be a prince.

And Maleficent was dead. Phillip had killed her. Then why, Aurora wondered, does she still see her almost every night? Every night in Aurora's dreams, Maleficent taunts her, bitterly congratulating her for her fairy tale come true. One night Aurora had asked her why she still came to her dreams every night, what she could possibly hope to gain.

"It's your dream, _your highness_," Maleficent had said. "Maybe you miss me after all. Not that I'm complaining. Your dreams keep me alive."

Aurora didn't quite trust her. She wasn't sure if Maleficent was really there, still tormenting her after death, or if she really was just a dream figure. What really puzzled her was the voice she heard when awake (in that cold, haughty voice, of course), the voice that whispered vicious thoughts in her head about the people Aurora loved. When she wasn't careful, Aurora sometimes whispered back, defending her husband or telling the voice to be quiet. Once, Aurora laughed in response. This only made Phillip and the rest smother her more. And in response, Maleficent's retorts became more frequent.

_The beauty of being evil is that you follow only your own rules._

They called her Sleeping Beauty. A fitting name, Aurora thought, because sometimes she felt as though she were sleepwalking. She might as well be asleep.

_Maybe he won't bother to wake you up at all. Maybe he'd prefer you asleep. I suppose it won't make much difference._

No, Aurora thought, not to them. _To me_. To her, it made all the difference in the world, and sometimes she wasn't entirely glad Phillip had woken her up.

So she closes her eyes, one last time. It's the middle of the day, but that won't matter. She closes her eyes and falls asleep, but this time no one, not even Phillip, will wake her until she is ready. She closes her eyes and she sees a hand reach out to her, a pale green hand with long fingers and sharp nails. When Aurora grasps the hand, she presses her own fingernails into the green skin, until she's not sure whose blood is seeping though their joined fingers. And she hears a voice, the same voice that lives in her head.

_For now, princess, we will have to feed on each other's blood._


End file.
